


Something's Gotta Give

by mcgarrygirl78



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, F/M, Friendship, Holidays, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-29
Updated: 2011-11-29
Packaged: 2017-10-26 16:04:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/285213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Work is great, family is amazing, but there's something else out there.  I know it because I see other people living.  I want to experience it too.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something's Gotta Give

**Author's Note:**

> This story is written in the Casus Aliquis Pravus universe. When I started writing it I had no idea it would go where it did. It was quite an adventure.

Hotch was afraid to open his eyes. Yes, a grown man was afraid to open his eyes. It was the first day of the New Year and Aaron Hotchner had already made his first mistake. No, he couldn’t think of it as a mistake. Not the way it felt and the way he felt. Maybe his mistake was what happened with Megan Kane a few nights ago. No, dammit, that wasn’t either.

How could a man go from no women at all to two women? And since when was a 45 year old man afraid to open his eyes in his own bed? Why the hell was he asking himself so many questions at God knows what time it was o’clock on a Sunday morning anyway? If his life were a movie maybe John Cusack would do the voiceovers and he wouldn’t have to think at all. That was probably the best idea…this kind of thinking always got him in trouble anyway.

He opened his eyes slowly, like a child might in a dark room not knowing what to expect. That’s when Hotch realized he was alone. He let go of the breath he didn’t know he was holding. His bed was empty and his curtain partially open. Squinting against the early morning sunlight, Hotch grabbed the pillow beside him.

He held it over his face and inhaled. Yes, it smelled just like her. It smelled sexy, dreamy, powdery…womanly. His pillows smelled of her and he was officially sad for actually holding one over his face to verify. No, maybe he was sad because a part of him didn’t want to wash it again.

This wasn’t supposed to be how Aaron Hotchner started his first day of the New Year. While he’d learned a long time ago that things rarely went as planned, he had pretty much settled into not having a life. Then Emily Prentiss blew into his life. Meeting a woman on a kidnapping case in which her son was the victim and her husband turned out to be an internationally wanted terrorist was not a story to share around the dinner table.

But Emily was much more than that and the two of them forging a friendship felt very natural to Hotch. He’d never been the kind who made a ton of friends so the few he had were very dear to him. She was very dear to him. He promised, and mostly made good on it, to keep falling for her to himself.

She had enough going on and didn’t need him pining. Except sometimes he thought she might be feeling the same way. Considering all that happened to her, Hotch was sure he couldn’t trust that feeling. Not to mention that he knew even less about women than he did about friends.

After their awkward Christmas phone sex conversation, Hotch really wasn’t sure he would see Emily on New Year’s Eve. They’d planned another movie night with Sam and Jessie. This time it would be dinner first, then a Diane Keaton movie thing with Annie Hall and Something’s Gotta Give. After the movies they would watch the ball drop, or somewhere in between if that was the case.

No one mentioned plans after that but all three of the guests were planning to spend the night. They wanted to go into the wee hours. As parents of young children, all four of them relished the idea of being able to hang loose as grownups. Still, Hotch wasn’t sure that Emily would even show.

He wasn’t fond of being the third wheel with Sam and Jessie. He’d been there, done that, had the shot glass and the tee shirt. That didn’t give him the courage he needed to call Emily and confirm her being there. He didn’t have to when his doorbell rang at 6:30 on Saturday evening.

***

Hotch was heating the spicy shrimp marinara in a skillet on the stove. He turned it to low and went over to the door. Sam and Jessie weren't going to be there until seven so he wasn’t sure what to expect. Looking through the peephole, he saw Emily. She looked as nervous as she did the first time she came to his house for movie night. When he opened the door, Hotch made sure to put on a dimpled smile. It wasn’t just an act…he was happy to see her.

“I brought Coke.” Emily said instead of hello as she walked over the threshold. “Not the Studio 54 kind but the Classic carbonated beverage kind. I have a rule…Emily Prentiss only makes an ass of herself once a week per friend.”

“That’s a shame because I just bought a bottle of coconut rum.” Hotch replied. “I couldn’t figure out why, I've never liked the stuff. I think its kismet. And, by the way, it’s a new week.”

“Dammit,” Emily handed off her shopping bag and started taking off her peacoat. “You’ve twisted my arm. Who am I to mess with kismet? Make me a cocktail.”

“Coming right up.” Hotch smiled and walked toward the kitchen.

“Something smells so good.” She put her coat in the closet and followed him. “What are you cooking, Agent Hotchner.”

“Its spicy shrimp marinara. I saw it on the Food Network and decided to go for it. If you go to their website there are lots of links to the most amazing recipes.”

“You cook?” Emily raised an eyebrow as she watched him make the perfect drink.

She couldn’t help but study his hands. There was something so strong, masculine, about them. At the same time they seemed tender. Those hands held a gun and his son and surely his cock from time to time.

Whoa, where did that come from? _Hey bad girl_ , she told her mind, _cut it out_. Maybe this drink wasn’t the best idea. But it would be rude to turn it down now. One surely wouldn’t kill her.

“I dabble.” Hotch replied. “People keep telling me I need to get a hobby. My brother is chef; a renowned chef as a matter of fact. Maybe the apple didn’t fall as far from the tree as I thought it did.”

“Is he really?” she thanked him as she took the highball glass. “Is he here in DC?”

“No, he's in New York at a restaurant called Gracie London’s.”

“Oh my God, stop, Sean Hotchner is your brother? Duh, it’s not a seriously common last name. Not that I even had time to think about it. I haven’t been to Gracie London’s in the longest time. I spent plenty of time in New York in my day. At one time my father was U.S. Ambassador to the UN. We have a house there.”

“He started there in 2008. It’s a great restaurant with a rich history. We’re very proud of him.”

“As well you should be. He's amazing. I'm excited for the spicy shrimp marinara now. It smells fantastic.”

“I made it, not my brother.” Hotch said. “But I hope that doesn’t curb your excitement.”

“You, curb my excitement?” she smiled, holding the glass to her lips. “Don’t be silly Hotch.”

“OK.”

He had no idea why he said that. Hotch opened his mouth and that’s what came out. At least it wasn’t embarrassing. She was early, again, and he wasn’t sure if this was a chronic thing or a nerves thing. If it was chronic he was going to have to get much better with small talk.

“You're here earlier than I expected.” He stirred the meal with a wooden spoon. “I hadn't gotten around to setting the table or anything.”

“I’ll help…please let me. I didn’t just come here to drink you out of house and home and subject you to my Woody Allen fanaticism.”

“He's your favorite director?” Hotch asked.

“Probably. Where are the dishes?”

“They're in the cabinet to the left of the sink. You don’t have to, Emily; you're a guest.”

“No, I'm a friend.” She shook her head. “Friends are never guests, though you're always happy to have them. I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty. I want to help.”

“OK.”

She smiled and took a healthy pull on her drink. She didn’t want to have to have too many tonight. It was silly to mix as well so there would be no red wine with dinner, which was truly a pity. Something non-alcoholic would be just fine.

Going over to the cabinet, Emily opened it and looked in. OK, she could still respect Hotch; he didn’t have mismatched dinnerware. It looked to be three complete sets; some china, black and white checkered glass, and the requisite plastic set for parents of young children. Hotch’s was Oscar the Grouch green.

“This china is lovely.” Emily pulled out a plate. “I know its going overboard but I say we use it. I’ll help wash when it’s over.”

“Why not go a little overboard tonight?” Hotch asked with a smile. “I know it’s just my best friend, my sister-in-law, and my new friend Emily, but this is my first official dinner party. We may as well pull out the very good china.

“My mother would be happy to know I still use it for something. She and my stepfather bought it for me when I got married. My ex-wife wanted an uncontested divorce but I knew if I didn’t at least come out of it with that china my mother would never forgive me.”

Emily smiled a bit as she gathered four plates and started setting Hotch’s dining room table. It had space for six but there wouldn’t be that many tonight.

“How long were you married?” Emily asked.

“Over twenty years…Haley was my high school sweetheart.”

“And you had a house and a child, right?”

“Yes.” Hotch nodded.

“And she wanted an uncontested divorce? What the hell is that? I would've taken Ian to the cleaners. Not that I want her to do that to you but still. Who in their right mind with property and children gets an uncontested divorce?”

“Hi, I'm Aaron, and I had an uncontested divorce.” He held up his hand.

“Oh, I am so sorry. Sometimes I just start talking and it’s pretty difficult to keep my feelings from spilling out of every orifice. I'm sure you don’t want to talk about that anyway.”

“The truth of the matter is Haley didn’t need anything from me. Steve was already waiting in the wings with everything her needy heart desired. All she needed was for me to go away. So I signed the paperwork and did it.”

“Her loss.” Emily replied, going back to the cabinet to get wine and water glasses.

“I appreciate that.” Hotch turned dinner off. He didn’t want it to burn. Sam and Jessie would be there soon with the Shiraz and they could begin.

“I'm not just saying that because you're my friend either. Women would fall all over themselves for you, Aaron.”

“Who are these women and would you mind producing a phone number or two?”

Emily laughed. It was a real laugh, when a woman throws her head back and doesn’t give a damn that it’s most likely entirely graceless. That laugh might be the only graceless thing Hotch ever saw when it came to Emily Prentiss. It just made him slip deeper into the hole.

“I don’t have as many friends as I used to so I’d like to apologize for that. Also, I adore you and wouldn’t subject you to some of the Desperately Seeking Susans I happened to be acquainted with these days. Finally, no cuz you're all mine.”

Hotch nearly choked on the bottled water he’d been drinking when she said that. He managed to recover and it went unnoticed, he hoped, but had she really said what he thought she said. What did it mean if she did?

“I'm sure your stepmother taught you to share.” Hotch found his voice, somehow, and kept the conversation going. Emily was folding napkins. “I've met her before…I’m willing to bet the house.”

“Sharing is overrated.” Emily waved it off, laughing again. It wasn’t the graceless laugh but a pretty one nonetheless.

Hotch wanted to take that laugh and save it in a vial that he always kept in his pocket. If he wasn’t careful his thoughts might start sounding like the maniacs he caught for a living. Having a crush was definitely for the young. They didn’t mind being stalkers, idiots, and asses. Men in their 40s…not so much. That was a good thing.

“Well, I did have a dinner date a few nights ago.” He said.

Emily stopped as she walked from the table to the cabinet drawer where the silverware was. At least where she suspected it was. The only thing she’d asked about so far was the china. Since then she just took over Hotch’s kitchen. Emily was like that; she did things on her own.

He didn’t seem to mind, in fact he encouraged it. Didn’t he? Sometimes Emily couldn’t tell if she was overwhelming him or if Hotch enjoyed her take charge nature. Maybe throwing the date out there was a message not to overwhelm his life. Oh hell, it had been a long time for Emily…she didn’t know what any of it meant.

She just knew she enjoyed being with Hotch a lot. In a way, even though they barely knew each other, it was like having Tom back. There was someone else who just got her with little explanation. At the same time, she and Tom had been friends since they were young and he never made her tingle like Aaron Hotchner did in just one month.

Emily was still deciding if that was rebound-itis or something worth looking into. No matter what though, her friendship with him had really been a help this past month. It felt like longer but it wasn’t. It could be though, if they both wanted it to be.

“Was she pretty?” Emily asked, picking up her pace again. “Did she have nice hips? Men tend to like women with nice hips. My maternal grandmother told me once that it goes back to caveman days. Women with wide hips bear children better. Millions of years later and men still look for that in a mate.”

“I can't say I noticed her hips.” Hotch lied. The woman’s body was stunning; he’d noticed it all night long. “She's a nice woman and it was nice to get out. I'm not sure what will come of it but we’ll probably see each other again. It made me realize something important.”

“What’s that?”

“Its time for me to live again.” he said. “Jack wasn’t even three when his mother and I divorced. He’s six now, in school, growing and changing. Its not just about dating…I don’t think I'm ever going to be good at that. I just need to get a life.

“One of my new year’s resolutions is to do just that. Work is great, family is amazing, but there's something else out there. I know it because I see other people living. I want to experience it too.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Emily held up her glass to toast and then took a drink.

000

Sam and Jessie were late, which rarely happened. They had an overnight babysitter for the boys and she was late getting there. But they finally made it and the foursome had a great dinner. Hotch’s cooking was given many compliments. Emily relished in the fact that he wore a smile for most of the evening. Dessert came next, mini red velvet cakes from one of the best bakeries in Alexandria.

“May I propose a toast?” Hotch asked, holding up his glass tumbler of milk. “I know it would've been fancier over wine but still…”

“It’s not about the beverage.” Jessie said. “The words are what are important.”

“I want to make a toast to friendship. To people who’ve been here through a lot of storms and people who are new to our lives. To growing, changing, loving, losing, gaining, and maybe some furniture shopping. When you think you're all the way down in the hole, if you can look up and see the people who care then you're never out. To friendship.”

“Friendship.” They said in unison as their milk glasses came together.

“Was the furniture shopping thing about me?” Emily asked, leaning in to whisper.

“I have no idea what you mean.” Hotch replied.

“Mmm hmm.” She made a face.

He smiled at her as Sam watched the whole thing. He had no idea what was going on between his best friend and the woman he’d known for many years. It was clear, maybe only to him because he’d known him so long, that Hotch was smitten. Maybe it was just a crush. It wasn’t love; it couldn’t be after so short of a time.

Sam wasn’t sure what side he came down on. A part of him wanted to tell Hotch to back off and move on. What Emily was going through came with its own caravan of baggage. At the same time he couldn’t remember the last time he saw his friend smile so much in one sitting. Who in their right mind would want to stop that?

Still, he didn’t want either one of them to be hurt. The closer they got; the more that was possible. Jessie was falling squarely on the side of Team Megan, and not just because they worked together. She thought the quirky, sultry Southern belle would be good for Hotch. Sam remembered how well things went on Thanksgiving and couldn’t help but agree. He and Emily were friends…he and Megan could be something more.

It wasn’t a good idea to just dismiss one for the other. Those two relationships may serve two different purposes. Sam still couldn’t help but think that his best friend might be falling for two women. Or maybe he was just falling for one and possibly dating the other. Not good were the words that came to mind when Sam thought about how this all might end. He hoped no one’s bunny was boiled.

“Since we’re all talking,” he said. “I thought it might be a good time to bring up that I'm not the biggest fan of _Annie Hall_.”

“What?” that stopped Emily from flirting with Hotch. OK, maybe not flirting but something. It always seemed to be something.

“I do OK with Woody Allen but maybe we should switch it to _Manhattan Murder Mystery_. Anjelica Huston balanced things out nicely for me.”

“I can live with that.” she turned to look at Hotch. “Do you have that movie? I didn’t think to bring it with me; I thought we’d watch _Annie Hall_.”

“I have it.” Hotch replied. He stood and started cleaning up. “Manhattan Murder Mystery sounds fine. We may as well watch something that everyone can enjoy.”

“Do you need some help cleaning up?” Emily asked. She stood up as well.

“No, you’ve done enough. I can accept that you're a friend not a guest but you still didn’t come over to work so hard. I've got this covered.”

“OK.” She smiled. “I’ll just excuse myself to the ladies room.”

“I’ll get the DVDs ready.” Jessie got up from the table.

That left Sam and Hotch so the best friends cleaned off the table and headed into the kitchen. Sam grabbed another beer from the fridge as they scrapped plates and stacked them in the sink.

“Baby doll, do you want more wine?” he called into the living room.

“Not just yet.” Jessie was looking through the movies. Hotch had a lot of good ones but who knew when he found time to watch anything. “I'm doing fine.”

“OK, let me know.” He turned back to his best friend. “Emily was here when we got here.”

“Is that an observation or an accusation.” Hotch replied.

“Aaron…”

“Apparently she's got the chronically early thing nailed. I just can't figure out if its nerves or her. What do you know?”

“I know she's never late unless something important came up. She did tend to be one of the first parents at games. I don’t know about chronically early but 10 minutes or so is probably right. It could be nerves. She might feel the need to settle in, get comfortable and find her place, before everyone else shows up.”

“I thought I was the profiler.” Hotch smirked.

“That’s not profiling; that’s observation. Should I be a jackass and tell you now I'm on Team Megan?”

“Sam…”

“That’s all I'm going to say about it. Cross my heart.”

“Emily and I are friends. Megan and I…” Hotch sighed. “We had a good time the other night.”

“But…?”

“I don't know. I just truly, honestly don’t know. I'm doing this for the first time in my life and I'm in my 40s. We both said we wanted to do it again and meant it. Woody Allen should do a movie about this.”

“I'm sure he already has.” Sam replied. “Emily will know which one.”

“I'm so not asking her.”

“I'm just going to make another cocktail.” Emily said as she came back into the room. “That rum and coke you made for me was perfect, Hotch.”

“I’ll make you another. Sit down and relax; it’s coming to you in just a few minutes.”

“Okey dokey.” She laughed and went to sit in the living room with Jessie.

The women were talking amongst themselves and even though the men were in the kitchen doing the same, Sam and Hotch couldn’t help but wonder what the conversation was about. Were they talking about them? Were they talking about motherhood, holidays, or the shoe sale at Bloomingdale’s? Women were a mystery to both of them honestly. Luckily Sam was happily married; he didn’t have to worry about the things he didn’t understand. Hotch wasn’t so lucky. He really couldn’t think of a time when he had been.

000

“Five more minutes until the new year.” Hotch turned the television to Dick Clark. “Any last things you want to say in 2011?”

“I'm a total lightweight.” Jessie said, biting back a yawn. “I don’t know when it happened but it’s happened. I guess I can handle it as long as I don’t become my mother.”

“Lightweight?” Hotch laughed. “I've seen you wrangle and bring calm to a room full of rowdy four and five year olds. You're my hero, Jess.”

“But I can barely stay up till midnight on New Year’s Eve. What's happened to me?”

“Life.” Emily replied.

“You aren’t tired.” She said.

“No, but my kids are gone for the week. You should've saw me on Christmas…I was beat. We’re moms; its OK we can't stay up much past midnight. We kick ass in the hours we are awake.”

“I still want to make a time, maybe a couple of times a month, to go out and just be Jessie. I don’t just want to be mom and honey. I'm good at it but that’s not all I am.”

“Amen.” Emily raised her tumbler glass, which was nearly empty.

“A refill before the new year?” Hotch asked.

“Sure.” she smiled, leaning in to whisper to Sam and Jessie. “He's trying to get me drunk to see what happens.”

“I already know what happens.” Hotch got off the couch smiling. “Someone likes to drunk dial.”

“Aaron!”

“I'm sorry.” He covered his mouth. “Emily, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“What's he talking about?” Jessie asked.

“It’s nothing Jessie. I should've kept my mouth shut. I'm really sorry, Emily.”

“I got drunk and called him really late one night.” She said as if he hadn't spoken. “It was dumb, and I don’t drink a lot, but lately I haven’t been having the best time. Hotch was a good friend that night and I appreciated it. But New Year’s resolution number one…Riesling and cell phones don’t mix.”

“Amen to that.” Sam smiled. “Hurry up, Aaron; you're going to miss the ball drop.”

“Here I come.” Hotch came back in the living room, sitting on the couch next to Emily and his best friend. All four of them had been there all night. They watched _Manhattan Murder Mystery_ and were halfway through _Something’s Gotta Give_. Hotch put the movie on pause so they wouldn’t miss ringing in the New Year. He handed Emily her drink. “Here’s the last cocktail of 2011.”

“Thanks.” She squeezed his hand. There were no hard feelings about the drunken dialing thing. Emily wanted to make sure he knew that.

Sam turned up the volume and they counted down the seconds from twenty before they all shouted HAPPY NEW YEAR. Sam and Jessie hugged and kissed and Hotch put his arms around Emily. The hug was nice; it felt good to have her close. She held on for a while and didn’t even pull away when he kissed her. Hotch hadn't meant to kiss her but she was so damn close.

She smelled so good and felt so nice. When his lips touched hers, he was sure a sound came from his diaphragm that everyone in the room heard. For one of the first times in his life, he just didn’t give a damn. His tongue gently coaxed her lips opened and the kiss deepened. It didn’t last long…it felt like a fraction of a second.

But it was long enough to know she’d been drinking rum and coke and eating cake. It was long enough to feel butterflies in his stomach and slightly lightheaded. It was long enough for Emily to stroke her fingers down the nape of his neck and for Hotch to quiver in her arms. It was definitely long enough for Sam to declare they get a room.

They came apart slowly, the words breaking into the bubble that formed as soon as their arms were around each other. Hotch was embarrassed. He tried but failed to hide the crimson tint in his cheeks. Emily just smiled and quietly wished him another happy new year.

She wasn’t even offended when they put the movie back on and Hotch moved over to the chair. He needed space, to cool off and collect his thoughts. He would jump back into Diane Keaton and Jack Nicholson’s love affair. That would help to stay far away from any potential of his own. Emily couldn’t help but pay more attention to him than the movie.

She always loved it but she was drawn to Hotch. She wanted to let him know that she felt just as confused as he did. But she refused to say a word. Too much was happening, in her head, her heart, and all around her. This thing had a chance to be a great friendship, which she needed more than ever right now.

Her husband had been dead for 2 months. The last thing she needed was some doomed love affair. She at the very least refused to have it with someone she actually liked. She liked Hotch, dammit. She had no idea if she liked liked him and what the feelings in her stomach meant.

For almost a decade she’d loved someone else. No one could deny how much she loved Ian, and Emily never would. But finding out he wasn’t who he said he was made her question everything. Did he really love her or was she the guise of normalcy? Were their plans, their whispers, and the amazing love they made as much of a lie as his international financing was?

Emily Prentiss wasn’t the confused type, she never had been. This left her confused. It left her shattered and confused. The only thing that felt real at the moment was her children and Aaron Hotchner. They weren't a part of life with Ian. Well, her children were.

But they were hers…of her womb and of her soul. They didn’t belong to him and his false promises. Neither did Aaron. When she was with him, and Sam and Jessie too, she didn’t have to be Ian Doyle’s widow. She didn’t have to be the idiot who didn’t know her husband was a terrorist. She didn’t have to be the one who looked up and nearly a decade of her life was gone.

She could just be Emily. Right now she needed that more than anything. Still, Emily felt with one false move it could all be taken away from her. She’d never been so happy and frightened all in the same breath.

She wanted to live but feared doing that would bring everything else crashing down. Emily just had to figure out what the hell everything else was. She was alone again and for the first time in her life hardly remembered how to be that way. That was uncomfortable for a woman who thought she always would be.

“I'm seriously a lightweight.” Jessie said, not even bothering to hold back her yawn as the credits rolled on the movie. “I can admit to not being here for the last 15 minutes or so.”

“It’s after one in the morning, baby,” Sam replied. “That’s not lightweight.”

“I hope you're right.” she stood from the couch still holding her husband’s hand. “I'm heading to bed. Are we doing brunch in the morning?”

“Absolutely.” Emily nodded and smiled.

“You don’t mind if I stay up a while longer, do you?” Sam asked. He stood too.

“No.” Jessie shook her head. She leaned to whisper something in his ear and then kissed him. “Goodnight honey. Goodnight Aaron; Emily.”

“Goodnight, Jessie.” They said in unison.

“Goodnight baby.”

“One more beer for the road, Sam?” Hotch asked, getting up from the chair and going into the kitchen.

“I like the sound of that.” he smiled, sitting back on the couch.

“You two are really adorable.” Emily said. “I don’t know whether to puke or be envious.”

“We’re not perfect.” Sam replied. “I don’t want us to be perfect. Nothing’s perfect…nothing real anyway. I just want to love her. I want to love her everyday of my life and I want her to love me.”

“Aww,” Emily felt the tears pricking the back of her eyes like daggers. “That is so sweet Sam.”

“Never let it be said that Sam Kassmeyer isn’t the perfect combination of strong and soft.” Hotch said as he came back in the room with two beers.

“Women like that in a man.” Emily replied. “We want you to be able to handle whatever comes your way but also know that you can be gentle, you can fail, and you can love.”

“That sounds like me.” Sam said, laughing. “I'm a very lucky man. I don’t ever forget it, or let my wife think I forgot it.”

“Well I commend you.” Emily smiled. “I'm glad I'm getting to know you and Jessie better. Let’s add that to our new year’s resolutions.”

“We’ll do movie night once a month and break Jessie out of the habit that she’s a lightweight.” Sam said.

“It doesn’t matter if you can't hang out all night.” Hotch added. “As long as the hours you're hanging out are good for you. Tonight was good for me.”

“Me too.” Emily nodded. “A new year and a new life…I think I'm ready.”

“Is the world ready for Emily Prentiss?” Sam asked grinning.

“You better ask them cuz I'm coming out no matter what.” she grinned too.

“To coming out.” Hotch held up his bottle of beer.

Emily and Sam toasted it as well and twenty minutes later Hotch and Emily were alone. It was awkward for a few minutes. They both had so much to say but silence seemed more fitting. Finally, Emily stood up from the couch.

“I think if we do the dishes now it won't be so bad in the morning.” she said.

“You want to do dishes at 1:30 on a Sunday morning?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Why not? C'mon, put on some good music and let’s get them done. It’ll be better than listening to Sam and Jessie have excellent married people sex.”

“If they're having excellent married people sex they are one up on a lot of married people.”

“Oh my God,” Emily laughed. “Aaron Hotchner, that’s just mean.”

“Mean probably but true, I think so.” he smiled and his dimples showed. “OK, let’s do the dishes.”

Hotch turned on his satellite radio and handed Emily the remote. He had been listening to doo-wop the last time he had it on. That was a little over a week ago when he was wrapping presents. Emily fiddled around skipping over some of her favorite stations like 80s, Alternative, Adult Alternative, Classic Hits, and Singer-Songwriters. She settled on Love Songs. She smiled when she heard _Been in Love Before_.

“Really?” Hotch asked. He was filling his sink with hot water and dish detergent.

“I know, I know, but I'm a sucker for a cheesy love song. Not a lot of people know that about me, Aaron Hotchner…I do have a kickass street cred to maintain.”

“Your secret is safe with me. What’s your favorite?”

“My favorite what?” she asked.

“What's your favorite cheesy love song?” he asked.

“Oh no.” Emily shook her head. “I told you that I love cheesy love songs. That’s all you're getting out of me, Mister. You'll wash and I dry.”

“That’s good. How about one more cocktail? I'm going to have one more beer and don’t want to drink alone.”

“OK.” She nodded.

Hotch made her drink, grabbed his beer, and they got to washing the dishes. The Cutting Crew changed to Michael McDonald; Hotch want to demand she turn this music off. _Take it to Heart_ was the last thing he felt like listening to right now.

“If I guess, would you confirm or deny?” he asked.

“Mmm…deny.”

“That’s not fair.” Hotch was smiling as he pulled out the first plate and washed it.

“Live with it.”

“It seems as if I'm going to have to.”

They laughed a little and then washed the dishes in companionable silence. Strangely, Hotch never minded being quiet with Emily. He liked talking, for sure, but there wasn’t that uncomfortable silence either. It was strange because it hadn't been there with Megan either.

And he was suddenly thinking of her. Why? Well hell, why not? She was beautiful. She was beautiful, witty, and fun to be around.

There wasn’t quite the pull he had with Emily but there was a pull. He’d be a fool not to admit that to himself. Hotch just didn’t want to feel it right now. He was feeling enough that he didn’t know what to do with.

“I bought some extra pillows for you.” he said, for lack of anything else. “I mean, I don’t know if you're a pillow person but I know I'm not. I just wanted you to be comfortable.”

“What?” she looked at him.

“I sleep with two pillows and they’re both flat. So I bought some new ones for you to sleep on.”

“The couch pillows should be fine.” Emily replied. “Honestly they're the most comfortable thing about your couch.”

“I'm sleeping on the couch, Emily. You're sleeping in my bed.”

“Why?”

“Because I was raised right.”

“OK that’s true. But seriously Hotch, the couch is fine. Please, I insist.”

“You hate my couch.” He reasoned.

“Yes, but I'm not going to take over your bed while you have to sleep on it. Saying I was going to sleep over, I planned for this. I have a bottle of Motrin in my purse. I did forget to grab some pajamas though so if you can give me some boxers and a tee shirt I’d appreciate it. I bet Sam and Jessie didn’t need pajamas.”

“Oh my God,” Hotch covered his ears. “Stop.”

“I'm sorry.” She was laughing again. “I can’t help it. I really like them, adore them, but sometimes they seem kinda milquetoast. I can only assume they are having some totally awesome sex. Don’t you two talk about it?”

“No.” Hotch replied. That wasn’t quite true, they were men after all, but he avoided the conversation as much as humanly possible. He’d known Jessie since she was 12 years old. Hotch didn’t want to hear it. He damn sure didn’t want to think about that little part of him intrigued by it. Oh God, he needed to flog himself for the very thought. “You make me think bad things.”

“You're welcome.”

She gave him a killer smile and Hotch actually had to walk away so he wouldn’t kiss her. He put the bowl gently back in the sink and walked away. Needing an excuse for why he did it, Hotch opened the cabinet door for the dishes.

“You can put everything back in here when we’re done.” He said.

“OK.”

“And I'm sure I have something in my top drawer you can borrow to sleep in.”

“Thanks Hotch.”

000

He didn’t know what time it was. Hotch wasn’t much of a sleeper but he’d been dozing. There was a possibility that he was completely asleep. But he felt someone crawl into his bed and his first thought was to grab his gun and play Dirty Harry. He must’ve been asleep then because that just wasn’t rational.

It only took about thirty seconds maybe; his brain was fuzzy so math now didn’t count, for him to smell her. She was wearing Vera Wang Sheer Veil. Though it had faded it never really went away. Emily Prentiss was wearing Sheer Veil and climbing into his bed. She was moving into his arms and kissing his lips.

Hotch was supposed to fight her off, OK not fight her but something similar. He was supposed to say in no uncertain terms that this was one of those bad ideas that people tended to have at what the fuck time is it o’clock. He was supposed to send her back out to the couch and though they would both be disappointed it was for the best. He was not supposed to kiss her harder and deeper. He wasn’t supposed to pull her on top of him as her boxers and tee shirt and his pajama pants hit the floor in record time.

He surely wasn’t supposed to arch his back as she stroked him. That was really, really not supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to see her nipple ring, taste her nipple ring, and bite her nipple ring. He wasn’t supposed to moan her name repeatedly when she slinked under the covers and deep throated him. OK, that’s it; he was dreaming.

This wasn’t happening. Hotch could relax and enjoy himself because this wasn’t real. No pomp, no circumstance, and no conflicted feelings…she was blowing him. While some men might think him the luckiest bastard on the face of the earth for being on the receiving end of two five-star blowjobs in the past week, Hotch was a bit concerned. Luckily he couldn’t over think it because he was whimpering like a teenage boy as his mind completely exploded.

Everything went black, then red, then there were fireworks as he came harder than he ever thought possible. Emily Prentiss broke him. She broke his cock, he was sure of it. Except the feelings were stirring again in a matter of moments. Hotch held her tight to him, her breasts pressing on his chest as they kissed. The taste of him, on her lips and tongue, was enough to make him growl.

He rolled them in bed, aggressive but not violent. He wanted to fuck her but never hurt her. Could Hotch comfort himself with the fact that he’d been attracted to her practically from the moment he walked into Nora Bennett’s kitchen. His mind focused squarely on the case didn’t negate that Emily Prentiss was a beautiful woman. But he didn’t want to think about that day right now.

He didn’t want to think about anything but her. Touching her, tasting her, and satisfying her was all he cared about. Fucking her until they both collapsed in exhaustion was a strong second. But Hotch backed up. He used his hand instead of his aching cock.

He was not going to be a wham, bam, thank you ma'am kinda guy. He’d said earlier he was raised right and he meant it. He was going to be as good to Emily as she was to him. It wasn’t about reciprocity. It was about the fact that he wanted her almost more than he wanted anything before.

“Oh God,” Emily arched her back as he stroked her. “Oh God, Aaron, don’t stop, don’t stop…oh God!”

“You feel so damn good.” Hotch practically sobbed as he whispered in her ear. “I can't stop; I can't stop until you come for me.”

She had no intention of disappointing him. Emily came alright. She didn’t care who she woke up as she gripped Hotch’s shoulders and cried out in ecstasy. Then they were both still, Hotch still on top of her. It was just the opening act but they calmed themselves with kisses and caresses.

She didn’t want to speak; didn’t want to ruin the moment. There were things on her mind but she let them off. Now was not the time. It would come, it always did, but it wasn’t now. Now was all about them. She wanted to surrender to the lust she felt from him even before all of this happened.

She felt it that night in his car when he told her Ian was a terrorist. She definitely felt it in her house that Saturday when they arrested him. It was almost out of control the Sunday after Thanksgiving when he came to her house. And she wanted it. Right, wrong, or some gray area in between, she wanted it.

Her feelings were tentative, unsure, but she would give as good as she got. Emily had always been good at sex…it was even better when she liked the person. She knew how much she wanted this and felt how much he did. It was going to be mind-blowing. While quantity over quality had always been her thing, Hotch had enough quantity that this wouldn’t be a waste of time.

He grabbed a condom from the nightstand drawer, reaching under the covers and sliding it over his shaft. Emily inhaled through her nose as Hotch filled her. He thrust, both of them moaning from the feelings it created. And it was an amazing feeling. Emily was floating on air as they made love.

Hotch was both gentle and rough around the edges. He whispered little dirty things, almost as if he didn’t know he was saying them. He knew how to touch her, when to push further, and when to pull back. His moans of satisfaction seemed to come strictly from hers.

She could handle what he had to give and the man was giving his best. She climaxed first, then again, before Hotch came on her heels. He was crying out her name in the crook her neck. This made Emily’s quivers feel even more amazing. And when it was over she held him on top of her, inside of her, until the aftershocks were no more.

“Mmm…” she drew the word out as Hotch moved to the mattress and disposed of the condom. They were definitely going to have to do that again in the very near future. Emily wondered how long it took for him to recover and reboot.

Hotch was silent as he lay on his side and looked at her. Emily was on her back. Her eyes were closed; her naked upper body exposed as the blankets rested around her waist. She was beautiful; a blind man wouldn’t deny that.

But something about this wasn’t right. It felt so good…he didn’t want to bury those euphoric feelings still going off in him like fireworks. At the same time red flags were going off like crazy. He fell asleep listening to them chime between his ears.

***

The second time Hotch woke up it was quarter to ten. He woke to the smell of coffee and a raging hard on. Almost instinctually he put his hands in his pants and jerked himself off. It wasn’t sweet and smooth like the attention he gave himself could usually be. It was done out of necessity.

He needed to get out there and face the music. All impediments to that needed to be brushed aside. Cleaning up, Hotch went into the master bathroom. He changed into another pair of pajama pants and threw on a plain blue tee shirt.

He washed his face, brushed his teeth, and tried to make some sense of his bed head. Looking at himself in the mirror for a while, he started to think hiding out might be better for everyone involved. That was going to be hard since he was hosting this shindig. One deep breath, another one after that, and then he was out in the living room.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Jessie said smiling. “I didn’t know who was going to wake up first, you or Sam. We didn’t have the heart to bother you guys. It’s probably been forever since either one of you slept in. There’s coffee.” She had a big cup and looked happy with it.

“Morning.” Hotch mumbled. He looked at Emily, who was smoking a clove out of his living room window.

“I hope you don’t mind.” She smiled putting on a smile. “I was going to go outside but Jessie thought that was a bad idea since I was wearing pajamas.”

“It’s fine. Have you had coffee?”

“I'm preparing for cup number two. You can go first.”

“Thanks.”

Hotch went into the kitchen as Emily finished her cigarette. He was halfway through preparing his when she joined him. Hotch wasn’t much of a coffee man but he hadn't gotten the best sleep last night.

“Are things going to be weird between us now?” Emily whispered. “I don’t want that Aaron.”

“Neither do I.” he shook his head. “What happened can never happen again. We’re friends and that’s how things should stay. I know that you're going through hell; I've always got your back. But…”

“I understand.”

“Do you?” Hotch asked.

“I care about you.” Emily said. “Last night was amazing but I know I'm not ready for anything more. I'm sorry.”

“Please don’t apologize.” He felt as if someone had kicked him in the stomach.

He knew it had to be this way but it still hurt like hell. All the air left his chest. Hotch tried to breathe through his nose but could barely make it. So he grabbed his coffee cup and tried to walk away. He almost mowed down his best friend.

“Whoa,” Sam said, holding up his hands. “Maybe we should get a traffic light in here.”

“I'm sorry Sam.” Hotch’s attempt at a smile failed miserably. He knew his best friend noticed. “I'm getting in the shower. You guys still want to do brunch?”

They all thought that was a good plan. Hotch nodded, standing in his living room and sipping hot coffee.

“You alright, Emily?” Sam asked. He looked at her leaning against the counter. She was looking at Hotch but doing a good job of pretending that she wasn’t.

“I'm good. Hotch’s couch sucked but I managed to get some sleep.”

“That’s good. I'm a rather light sleeper myself. I think that’s from years of being a Marshal and never knowing when the phone was going to ring.”

“Really?” she looked at him.

“Mmm hmm.” He lowered his voice. “I hear things at night, even when I'm sleeping.”

“Sam…”

“I'm just saying. That’s all I'm saying.”

“OK.” She put on a little smile as she drank her coffee.

“Are you alright?” Sam asked again.

“I'm fine, Sam, really. Coffee, cloves, and some brunch…I’ll be as good as new. It’s a new year; a new start. Not just for me but for all of us.”

Sam nodded. He and Jessie were doing just fine. There were some changes he wanted to make. It was nothing major, but he felt he needed to put more time into being a husband and father in 2012. He loved his family and knew he was a lucky man. He was quite concerned about his best friend and Emily Prentiss however. If what he heard last night was any indication, 2012 might be a long year for them.

“I'm going to get in the shower.” Hotch excused himself and went back to his bedroom.

He sat his half-full coffee cup on the dresser and picked up his iPhone. There was a text message and Hotch found himself smiling when he opened it and saw it was from Megan.

‘ _Happy New Year Aaron! I meant to text you last night but I was dragged out to party hard with friends who called themselves happy elves. It was a good time and I didn’t want to inadvertently wake you with a late night text. I hope you had a great night and I hope to see you soon_.’ –Megan

He couldn’t help but smile when he read the text. Hotch liked her; it was the plain truth. It didn’t make the whole thing any less complicated but he liked Megan. Her text made it seem as if the feeling was mutual. Hotch started moving his fingers along the touch keyboard keys.

‘ _Happy New Year to you too. I was up late but I appreciate your kindness in not wanting to wake me. I'm glad you had a good time with friends. I did as well. We will see each other soon. I’ll call you tomorrow_.’—Aaron

He put the phone back on the dresser and went into the shower. A couple of hours into the New Year and Hotch was more confused than before. He wanted to see Megan, he wanted to see Emily. He didn’t want to lose his mind or get slapped across the face. He wanted to be genuine and truthful with them both.

How that was possible without him knowing exactly what the truth was could be a problem. When he said he wanted to live Hotch hadn't meant being the leading man in a soap opera. He needed help, guidance, and thought he might know where to find it. That might be as good as it got today.

***


End file.
